Siriusly Me
by Hallie Black
Summary: The story of the wonderful life of Sirius Black told by the one and only, Sirius Black!
1. Getting to know me

**SIRIUS**LY ME

Summary: The story of the wonderful life of Sirius Black told by the one and only, Sirius Black!

DISCLAIMER: I am not J. K. Rowling, unfortunately, and I therefore do not own any of these settings or characters… especially not Sirius… dammit!

A/N: Okay, yesterday I was rereading CoA and when my eye fell on 'Magical Me' by Gilderoy Lockhart I couldn't help thinking about having Sirius write his very own autobiography! So, well, I really hope you like it and… remember to leave a review, okay?

-.-.-.-.-.

CHAPTER ONE – Getting to know me

Hello to all the ladies out there! This is me, mighty Sirius Black… Please hold the applause.

I know, I know: you're all doing the happy dance to finally see a story about me.

I mean, I bet you're all as sick as I am of all these silly romance-filled drama stories about my good mate James and his girlfriend. I mean, haven't we had enough?

Yes, I tell you. But I found a solution for this problem: here it is, my very own autobiography! What's there better than this?

First of all, think about the main character here: On one side, there's _me_ , Hogwarts' Number One Hottie, the sexiest man alive, and his wonderful adventures; on the other, the cheesy stories concerning Hogwarts' Sweethearts. I mean, Prongs, great friend as he is, is absolutely _nothing_ compared to me! _Nothing_! The guy wears glasses, for a start. Geeky, horn-rimmed glasses. I mean… whoa. But then, he is not the perfect and handsome and sexy Sirius Black, so I guess we'll have to forgive him if he's a bit faulty.

But enough about them! This story is about _me_, okay? Just let me know if I get off track or something, because I don't want any more interruptions. Weren't you all dreaming to know all about my life?

Let's start off with my childhood. I was, much to my dismay, born in the _Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_, something I would have gladly traded for, I dunno, being born in the Snape household.

Okay, no, scratch that. I mean, Snape? No way. Could you imagine being Snivelly's _brother_ ! Regulus is, as much of a dunderhead as he is, way better than Snivellus.

And… oh my Goodness! Think about my hair! My fabulous, silky, elegant, raven-black hair… If I'd been born a Snape, then I bet you my hair would be all greasy and-and… ew! I'd better not think about that. Especially not when I'm about to eat.

One thing you should know about me, is that I am so damn lucky for some things. No, I am not referring to my dashing good looks or the aura around me that makes girls of all shapes and sizes want to throw their knickers at me. I am talking about the fact that I can eat and eat and eat all the junk food I want without gaining a single pound. Wormtail used to hate me so much for it! But then, he was always on the chubby side.

So, thanks to this wonderful trait of mine, I can – and will – eat anything I can lay my hands on at any given time. You'll have trouble finding me without a doughnut or a Sugar Quill or a Licorice Wand or whatever else in my hands.

But, God, I thought I'd asked you to stop me whenever I went off topic? I know it's hard to stop me once I start talking, because my voice is incredibly melodious and all, but please, at least promise me you'll _try_, okay?

So, back to my childhood. My loving and caring mother was actually a mean and awful wench. And I'm not kidding here. I mean, the woman wanted to curse me on the spot when she found out I'd been sorted in Gryffindor, okay? Of course, I myself did not feel as I belonged in Gryffindor, but that's because I think I should be in a special house, composed solely of incredibly handsome, brilliant and perfect people.

We could call it the Sirius Black House.

Actually, scratch that; in the Sirius Black House I would want myself and at least forty-five models, all worshipping me and taking care of me.

In bikinis, possibly.

But I guess that's never going to happen, because, really, if there were a House like that, then people like James would feel very sorry for themselves. And we don't want to crush the self-esteem of some poor, innocent eleven-year-olds, do we?

But the bikini idea was nice. I really ought to tell Sue Andre'.

Sue Andre' is not my girlfriend. She is a very pretty girl, and the founder and president of the 'Sirius Black Official Fan Club'… oh, c'mon, don't tell me that you thought a Sex God like myself did not have his own fan club… I mean, even James has one! (though mine is better, if I do say so myself)

You all probably think that being who I am – do I really need to tell you? Sexy, intelligent, kind, dashing, brilliant, funny, handsome… – my life has always been a piece of cake. But I assure you, it's not.

It's incredibly tiring having to sign all those autographs, okay? And posing for all the pictures and posters? A nightmare. These girls are never satisfied.

And I always have to watch my back. Not so much from the Death Eaters – Lord Voldemort's supporters, in case you don't know who they are – but from crazy girls running to me with scissors, trying to cut out a lock of my hair to carry with them wherever they go, or a piece of my robes, to worship when they can't contemplate the real thing.

It's a difficult life, okay? Very stressing. But I can't leave all those poor girls unsatisfied, can I? No, I can't. They _adore_ me! How could I let them down?

Oh, silly me. I won't even bother to remind you that you were supposed to say something. You're surely hanging on my every word, aren't you? I know, I know. It doesn't matter.

But let's go back to my story, shall we? I was born on September 2, 1960. Oh, by the way, I heard the Minister of Magic's Junior Assistant (one Meredith Garland, member of the Sirius Black Official Fan Club, of course) was actually trying to convince the Minister to make this date a national holiday, so that girls all around the world (or Great Britain, anyway) could spend the day focusing all their energies on my sole person.

I made sure to send her a personalized thank-you note.

I last heard she has been black-mailing the Minister to achieve her goal.

Isn't she a nice girl?

But, personally, I could not care less if my birthday becomes a national holiday or not. Rule Number Two of the Sirius Black Official Fan Club is 'Every proud member of the club must devote herself entirely to Sirius Black every day of the year'. So that's got my birthday covered, as well.

Now, as I was saying, when I was little I—

"Padfoot, mate, are you done recounting the wonderful story of your life?" came a voice from right behind me.

Creepy. I thought I was alone in the room. I turned around to face James Potter, my best mate. Yeah, yeah, the guy _all_ of the stories in the Marauders' Era section are about. The one of which I am extremely jealous and the one to whom I am extremely attached.

"Padfoot… I'm talking to you."

Oh, right. "Um, what was it you said?"

"I asked whether you were done reciting the story of your life," continued James, raising an eyebrow.

"Right." Then it dawned on me. "Wait a moment… how the devil did you know I was recounting the story of my life?" I mean, I was doing it in my mind, you know. "You're a Legilimens, aren't you? Oh, how cruel of you not to say anything before! I feel so – so vulnerable, now! All this time you've been spying on my thoughts! But then… why didn't you get angry when you saw me thinking about Lily in that sexy lace lingerie I'd seen in that store next to…" I trailed off, staring at the look on my friend's face.

"You were talking out loud to yourself again, you dolt, I wasn't doing any mind-reading or—" He paused, looking suddenly rather greenish. "What's that you said about my girlfriend and sexy lingerie!"

Why don't I ever keep my mouth shut? Why? "Me? Your girlfriend? Sexy lingerie? Prongs, I think you're a bit confused, aren't you? I never said anything like that…"

He was still glaring at me. "Right. Right. I'm sure as hell you didn't."

"So, um, what brought you up here to overhear my thoughts?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

I succeeded. He relaxed visibly. "Lily wanted to know what happened to the turkey we were supposed to have for _dinner_," he explained, emphasizing the last word.

One thing I didn't tell you is that right now, considering the fact that I'm 19 years old and don't have much of an income, I share an apartment with James and his girlfriend. So that's why Lily would be caring about some turkey for our dinner.

"Turkey?" I repeated, feigning a surprised look. "We have turkey down in the fridge? I had no idea."

"We _had_ turkey down in the fridge, but we don't have it anymore because _someone_ ate it." James stared at me pointedly.

I shrugged. "Must have been a stray cat or something."

"More likely a stray dog, wouldn't you agree?" he asked.

"Yeah, definitely," I answered. "Yeah, I'm sure it must have been a stray dog."

"Possibly very big and shaggy and black and stupid," continued James just as conversationally.

"Certainly. Actually, now that you mention it, I think I saw a dog like that roaming around the house. Big, shaggy, black…" I trailed off, thinking. "Hold on a moment! You're talking about me, aren't you!"

James raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you are. But I seem to have told you that I didn't even know we _had_ turkey."

"Padfoot, look under your bed!" he ordered. "There's still the plate!"

I looked. He was right. "Oh." I tried to think of something intelligent to say, but couldn't find anything. "C'mon, Prongs, you know perfectly well about my illness!"

James raised his other eyebrow. "Your illness? You mean incurable stupidity?"

I glared at him. "No, I meant my obsessive compulsive eating disorder."

He laughed. "Since when is that an illness?"

"Since when am I not allowed any more privacy?"

James rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Listen, Lily and I are going to the Chinese restaurant just around the corner, since there's nothing left in the fridge. Wanna join us, big guy?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I have to eat _something_. There's still this hole in my stomach."

"That explains why you're always hungry," he muttered, but I pretended not to hear him and headed downstairs.

A/N: Okay, first chapter's done. I know it was kinda short and also kinda pointless (okay, not pointless, because nothing Sirius says is pointless!) but I needed the first chapter to be some kind of introduction to the story. Don't worry, I promise in the next chapter a lot more laughs and a lot of memories, pre- and post-Hogwarts! So, well, I really hope you liked it, and now, all you've gotta do is click below where it says 'Would you like to leave a review?' or something like that, and write what liked or didn't like about this story. Okay?

Thanks,

Hallie Black


	2. My Childhood

My Childhood

Last night, out to dinner, I had a talk with Lily. See, James told her about my ambition, my wonderful project, and, to my great surprise, she said she thinks it's a great idea. Actually, I think I just might have passed out at some point for the shock: for one thing, Lily had never _ever_ said – not my face, at any rate – that she thought I'd had a good idea. Never. In almost ten years of knowing her, not once. I mean, that's saying something. Especially since we're talking about me, you know.

Second of all, she always said that I'm way too conceited as it is, and now she's actually _encouraging_ me to write a whole book about myself?

You will agree with me that this didn't make sense at all. I mean, I thought about it for a long time, and there was only one logical conclusion – and it wasn't good; not completely unexpected, but nevertheless _not_ good: Lily must be madly in love with me, just like everybody else, but she's torn since she knows James is my best friend and he really likes her, and he would get really depressed if she were to dump him for me. Poor bloke.

And poor Lily. She probably thinks she has a chance with me. How will I break it to her that I already have a girlfriend? Helen would kill me if I even so much as considered Lily.

Especially since the two of _them_ are best friends.

God, what an intricate situation! Talk about a love triangle…

More of a love pentagon.

Which becomes a love dodecahedron if we were to include all the members of my fan club. Actually, it would become something larger than a dodecahedron, but I don't know how to call a polygon with something like a million sides.

I never did like Arithmancy very much.

Anyway, back to my talk with Lily. During our conversation, Lily actually gave me some very interesting tips – but then, she's a reporter for both the Daily Prophet and Wizard News: she was bound to be good at writing.

In any case, she gave me some sort of guidelines to use, to make sure I stay on topic, because she reckons otherwise my readers might get a little confused and won't understand very much about my life. Now, we don't want that, do we?

I think this is a fabulous idea. I trust you've already realized my tendency to get sidetracked rather easily, and my inclination to lose all too frequently my own train of thought. Therefore, guidelines indicating which periods of my life I should address in which chapters sound dead useful to me.

Lily also advised me to put here and there my own memories, to add a bit of – what was it? – liveliness to the whole story, and even interview some people who have inspired me and helped shape me in the fantastic wizard I am today – the best Auror around, the most handsome model that wizarding fashion magazines have seen in a while, not to mention winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award for the second year running, and, now, even the best writer on the market (excluding, of course my two favorite Muggle authors: one J.K. Rowling – dunno if you've heard of her – and Hallie Black, a fabulous writer who even shares my last name and who has written oh so many stories about me!) – at some point in the book. I reckon that would be kind of cool, too, even if I think I'll have some trouble setting up an interview with John Lennon, seeing as he's already dead, and I highly doubt I could track up his ghost anytime soon.

So, let's get cracking, then. All right, I reckon I should still get started with my youth, even if, I must admit, I have tried to remove these memories. I'm not being melodramatic here, trust me when I say I really haven't had the happiest childhood in the world.

Things started well enough till I was about three, I think. That's when Regulus was born. No use denying I was jealous of him. I was _insanely_ jealous, mainly because my parents started from the very beginning comparing him to me, and somehow, I was always the idiot out of the two of us.

It all began innocently enough: when I was a baby, I kept my parents (or actually, the house-elves… I doubt my mother ever read me a bedtime story…) awake at night because of my constant wailing. My mum, being the caring and loving mother she was (please notice the sarcasm) used a soundproofing charm on my room, so she could at least sleep in peace, bless her, leaving me, all alone and desperate, to be cared for by the house-elves.

And she was actually surprised if I cried even more? How would you feel if you'd just had a horrible nightmare and instead of finding your loving mother there to hug you, you found yourself staring into the huge and scary eyes of someone like Kreacher! No wonder I was traumatized! And if, you know, seen by daylight Kreacher might look ugly, at night, when it was all creepy and eerie, the effect was horrifying!

My mother was angry when I would still… you know… when I couldn't control my… my bladder at the age of six. But really, you try waking up with Kreacher's menacing grin right in front of your face! Yuck, even thinking about it now gives me the creeps!

Then, like I said, Regulus was born, and he was _such_ the perfect baby! Never cried, never yelled, and he downright cooed even when Kreacher held him! So, while she still soundproofed my room, my mother actually brought my brother to sleep in hers and my dad's room… which left me feeling alone, left out, and, as I mentioned, insanely envious of Regulus.

Even as time went by, Regulus and I never did have such a bonding relationship. We didn't curse each other, but we weren't friends either. We were just brothers. When people came to my parents' house for one of my father's boring business dinners, the two of us always had to act polite towards the guests and friendly with each other, because rule number one of living in The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was 'Appearances count a lot more than feelings'. Therefore, we always had to act like the perfect little gentlemen, living in a perfect little family, in a perfect little house, away from awful scum like Mudbloods.

Mudblood… I think that was the very first word my mother taught me. The very second one was 'bad' (obviously associated with the first one). I remember learning that Muggle-borns were below us since… since always, actually. Never, ever talk or fraternize with one of Muggle ancestors. Try to avoid being in the same room with one. Treat them with repulsion and distaste, because that is all they deserve.

Unfortunately for my parents, I've never been much of a rule-abider. If someone tried to put down some laws for me to follow, I'd do my very best to do the exact opposite. Maybe this is just part of my personality, part of who I am. Or maybe I became that way, due to the fact that, as brainwashed and lonely as I was, I had been grown-up so spoiled that I almost amazed myself. If I didn't get things my way, I'd throw a fit and start tossing all my toys at our house-elves (Kreacher was my personal favorite, actually), and while they didn't approve when I didn't set by their rules, my parents always encouraged this kind of behavior on my part. I was rich, the future heir of the enormous Black fortune, and could therefore do anything I pleased. As long as, of course, appearances weren't involved.

I think my parents made a huge mistake by letting me grow up this way. Because just as I didn't follow the house-elves' instructions, it didn't take long for me to realize I did not want my parents, my family, and my birth to influence in any way my life. I wanted to be capable of deciding things on my own.

So, while still incredibly convinced that Muggle-borns were filth, I began rebelling to my parents' orders. I remember this one time, when I was seven…

_FLASHBACK_

That day was going to be my very first day at Bullpustule Academy of Enchantment and Thaumaturgy. I know, an awful name, don't tell me about it. Bullpustule is actually a very expensive primary school, which you cannot attend unless you are, of course, a pure-blood.

Most wizards don't even bother with primary school, teaching themselves their kids how to read and write, since they know they will learn the abc's of magic at Hogwarts. But not my parents. Saying I went to Bullpustule practically showed I was already better than other wizards my age, who either couldn't afford it, or weren't admitted because of their birth.

"Sirius, hurry up!" my mother spat as she dragged me along the road toward Salisbury Street, where we were supposed to grab a portkey for my new school.

Hurry up? How could I hurry up? I was walking in the Muggle side of town, something I'd never done before! I was fascinated. I was even hoping to catch a glimpse of some Muggle, to see if it was true that they had green skin and four eyeballs on their forehead. That's what Kreacher had told me, anyway, and the way my mum talked about them, you'd think they were slugs.

"I said, hurry!" she murmured menacingly yet again.

But I was not to be hurried. "Look, mummy," I said, awed. "Is that a Muggle_?" I asked, rather impressed. I was pointing at a tall woman in her forties, who was positively gaping at the two of us. I immediately thought that her gazing open-mouthed at us was due to the fact that Muggles had, of course, inferior brain activity than us. Thinking back on it now, I think it was because my mother and I, despite being in a Muggle neighborhood, were both wearing long robes and dark cloaks._

Why, you ask? You couldn't seriously think my mother would have actually worn Muggle clothes! Had it been for her, she would have destroyed everything Muggle!

My mother didn't even answer my question as she tugged me along. After a few minutes of walking in silence, a figure approached us. She, too, was wearing black robes and a cloak, and as she came closer to us I was able to recognize her.

"Oh, Eurydice," she said, addressing to my mother, "oh, the shame!"

My mother stopped to frown at her sister-in-law's flustered expression. "What is it, Polyssenna?" she asked.

Personally, I'd never really liked Aunt Polly so much (not that I was allowed to call her that… but I did it anyway!). But then, I've never really liked any member of my family, so she really was no exception. Aunt Polly was a blond-haired witch with gray eyes – and the same look like she's got dung under her nose that was common to almost all of my family members.

She had three daughters. The eldest, Andromeda, was the only one I did like, since I felt she was a lot like me; she was already in her sixth year at Hogwarts, though her family wasn't really happy with her, as she had not only been sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, family tradition, but she'd also been spotted associating with awful Mudbloods. Then there was Narcissa: she looked a lot like her mother, and she was a lot like her as well; she had no problem believing that Muggles were scum, and was ready to do everything to please her parents. Finally, the youngest one of Aunt Polly's daughters was Bellatrix. Boy, was she frightening! She was only a few months older than me, but she was scary_, no kidding! She and I looked a lot alike: both dark hair, tall, and rather distinguished features (for seven-year-olds at least)._

"Oh, Eurydice, you have got absolutely no idea what Aeneas has just informed me of!" she said dramatically.

"Polyssenna, please tell me, and try to make it quick. Today will be the boy's first day at Bullpustule," answered my mother haughtily.

Aunt Polly rolled her eyes. "That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, dear," she explained. "Bella is also starting today, you know." Only then did I notice that Aunt Polly was not, in fact, alone, but that she was accompanied by her two youngest daughters: Cissa was looking rather worried, whereas Bella was merely smirking.

"Well? What's the hold-up?" asked my mother rather impatiently. She didn't want a Black to be late for his first day of school… didn't I already tell you that appearances are everything?

"As I was saying," continued my aunt, "Aeneas Malfoy has only just been to see me. He's been informed that the Portkey to Bullpustule is faulty, and the Ministry is too busy with some other idiot causes and will not send anyone over to repair it, so—"

"Certainly they do not expect us to go by Muggle means?" my mother spat.

"That is what Aeneas vainly tried to explain to the Minister, but we all know old Bagnold is good friends with that other Mudblood-loving fool, Dumbledore…" finished Aunt Polly.

"I'd like to go the Muggle way," I spoke up, curious as to what could be so dangerous about it.

"You will not," ordered my mother, "and keep your mouth shut unless someone asks for your opinion. We wouldn't want to give a serious Headmaster like Marcus Worple the wrong impression…"

Aunt Polly frowned at my mother pointedly. "I'm not saying I want my girls to mingle with such riffraff, but how are we going to get them to Bullpustule?"

"What did Aeneas say?" my mother asked. The Blacks and the Malfoys had always been good friends.

"He asked me to let him know what we decide. All the families of this area have the same problem."

"I think, Mother," interrupted Narcissa, "that the best thing to do would be to wait until the Portkey is fixed, and then go to school."

"How many times have I told you, Narcissa, that first impressions are very important? We don't want to be late on the first day of school," answered Aunt Polly.

"True," answered my mother, "but maybe your daughter is right. How would we look blending with Muggles and Mudbloods to get there? We're the Blacks, Polyssenna, dear, not a bunch blood-traitors like the Fawcetts or the Potters."

"Does that mean no school?" I jumped in, grinning.

"Sirius_! How many times have I told you not to speak unless asked to?" she spat angrily. She turned back to my aunt. "Really, I don't know what to do with him, anymore. I don't see where I've gone wrong with him!"_

Aunt Polly laid her hand on my mother's arm in a comforting way. "It's not your fault, Eurydice, dear. Look at how Andromeda's turned out! And I did not raise her differently than my beloved Narcissa here."

I glared. Looking back, I reckon that might have been a good opportunity to practice keeping my mouth shut. I didn't, however. "I'm still here, you know. You don't have to talk about me like I can't hear you or anything." I paused to draw breath. "And, my dear Aunt Polly_," I emphasized, knowing she hated that nickname, "I don't think there's anything wrong with Andy!"_

The four women surrounding me stared at me for a moment in disbelief. My mother then spoke up. "That's it, Mister, not another word out of you! We're going home, now, and you wait till your father hears what you've just said! You'll be very sorry indeed, boy!"

And without even saying goodbye to her nieces and sister-in-law, she hurriedly dragged me back home.

END OF FLASHBACK

Aww… Lily really ought to be proud. I've already put in my first memory! She's really got to stop saying I don't listen to her when she talks.

Anyway, I don't even wanna get into what I had to go through at home after that little incident. If you must know, however, Mr. Malfoy had always had a rather large influence at the Ministry, so they got the Portkey repaired in the end. I, however, began attending Bullpustule a week after that, once I'd gotten out of St. Mungo's.

Talk about scary.

Anyway, Bullpustule wasn't nearly as bad as I feared. But then, growing up in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I really was rather prepared for just about anything concerning punishments and scolding.

The worst time, however, was that one time when I had only just turned ten. It was going to be my very last year at Bullpustule, since I was getting finally old enough to attend Hogwarts (about that… my mother had actually almost succeeded in convincing my father to send me to Durmstrang, since she feared that my already 'weak and troubled personality' – which translates into my not wanting to listen to their rules – might only have been worsened by being exposed to the mindless babblings of the Mudblood-lover – which translates into Dumbledore. However, when she heard that both the Malfoys and my cousins were being sent to Hogwarts, she decided to have me attend it, too, since starting early to get connected with the 'right' families would have been a great plus for me later on).

Anyway, that time at Bullpustule, I think I really must have crossed the line. As I've already said, I've never been much of a rule-follower. The teachers hated me, because I, ignoring 'appearances', was a real trouble-maker, for them. Hadn't it been for my family's great influence – and a respectable amount of gold, too – they would have kicked me out on the very first day.

But that day… well, I'd always been getting in trouble every other day, but teachers usually restrained from sending notes home, believing that with punishments they could obtain obedience from anyone. They hadn't met me yet, of course. So, when they finally started to see how potentially dangerous I was to other students (and I'm not just talking pranks here – even if they were actually rather good for a ten-year-old, if I do say so myself) with all my gibbering about not wanting my family and birth to influence my life, they began worrying.

Teachers got downright alarmed when, during an argument in class, I actually had enough guts to stand up and say that I really couldn't see what was so wrong with Mudbloods; that I'd never met one, and thus decided to reserve judgments on them, and that I'd actually be rather thrilled to get to know one, betting he'd probably be smarter than half of Bullpustule put together.

The howler I got the next morning from my parents was the least of it. But I'd rather not get into detail here… haven't we put enough angst in just one chapter?

So, my ladies, I bet you're all dying to come to the rescue of this poor little hero. See how much I've had to go through when I was a child?

"Yeah, that explains why as of right now over half of your brain cells are missing, and thus even so much as assuming you could think would be—"

"—like expecting Snivellus to wash his hair. I know, I know, you've already told me that. You know, Prongs, if you have to come here overhear my thoughts, you might as well get a bit more original with your snide remarks," I muttered, looking over at my best friend who had, just like yesterday, entered my room – and destroyed my privacy – without my knowledge.

"Maybe you should quit talking out loud to yourself, then," he said, grinning. "Plus, don't tell _me_ to get creative with comments; you have yet to understand that any pun with your name isn't – and never has been, for that matter – remotely funny."

I glared at him. "You wound me, Prongs. I _sirius_ly think that any joke I have to say concerning my name is _sirius_ly funny." I paused, smirking. "Guess how I'm going to call this autobiography."

"_Sirius_ly Me?" he asked.

I gaped. "Okay, admit it. You can read my mind."

"No. Number one, Padfoot, you have no creativity whatsoever," he said, still smirking. "Number two, I was sure you were going to include some pun concerning your name. And," he finished, his smirk more pronounced than ever, "number three… it says so on the piece of paper you're writing on."

I glared. "Meh."

He grinned. "C'mon, wannabe author, get downstairs that dinner's ready."

I continued to glare at him as I followed him out.

A/N: So, how did I do this time? I really hope you liked this chapter, even if it's not nearly as funny as the first one was. But then, I don't exactly imagine Sirius's youth as something exceedingly funny. Now, before anyone bites my head off, let me make this clear: I have no idea when John Lennon actually died. I reckon it had to be around 1980, so, since this story should happen in 1979, if he was actually still alive, please bear with me, okay? Thanks.

Oh and, by the way, I apologise for the 'mistakes' concerning the girls' ages, but when I wrote this story, JKR had not yet provided us with her Black Family Tree. Therefore, while I have easily changed Sirius's parents' names in order to fit with her characters, I couldn't change the girls' ages without having to rewrite the whole story. Sorry!


	3. Hogwarts Number One Hottie? Again!

CHAPTER THREE

Hogwarts' Number One Hottie? _Again_?

Yes. The squabble on who deserves such an honorable title is still going on. But will it end?

-.-.-.-.-.-.

All right, according to Lily's plan here, chapter three should deal with my first years at Hogwarts.

I wonder how many years I'm supposed to talk about? The first couple? One through three? Or maybe till my O.W.L.s in fifth?

I really ought to ask her.

Because, you know, I can't just write my whole Hogwarts Pranking Career in one short teensy small chapter here. I mean, we're talking about my life.

I can't possibly cramp five years of my wonderful life in one chapter.

I mean, okay, I know I did it last time, but my life before Hogwarts is something I've stacked away in some pensieves and that I never want to look at again.

Life at Hogwarts? We're talking about the birth and growth of Sirius Black as you know it.

My first fan club was here, at Hogwarts. Can you believe the girls at Bullpustule! They were all swooning over Malfoy. Whatever.

No, really, I've gotten over that.

_Really_. Or rather… _siriusly_.

_I_ am Hogwarts' Number One Hottie, not him.

Anyway, before I get _too_ sidetracked with my continuous rants on filth like the Malfoys, let me introduce you all to the very first person who will make an appearance in this autobiography with his interview.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you….

JAMES POTTER!

"Er… Padfoot? Your readers – if, you know, someone will actually buy this book – already know me. I already made an appearance at the end of the very first two chapters… remember?" He stares at me, a little dumbfounded.

I shake my head vigorously. Honestly, can you believe this guy got O's in all his N.E.W.T.'s? I mean, so did I, but I'm _me_.

"Er… Padfoot?" he asks, again.

"I know you've already appeared in my wonderful story, Prongs, but you haven't been properly introduced yet. This is a serious – or actually, _sirius_ – book, and it has to be proper."

James rolls his eyes. "Padfoot, how many times have I told you already that _puns regarding your bloody name are NOT funny_!"

"Prongs," I answer, just as impatiently, "how many times in my whole life have I ever listened to you!"

He nods. "Fair point."

"Now will you let me get on with the bloody speech I'd prepared to introduce you?" I ask, a little more forcefully than intended. Honestly.

"Please do, mate."

"All right. Ladies and gentlemen, here he is, my—"

"Padfoot, you do know no one is going to buy this book – if, you know, you ever finish it and publish it – don't you?" he asks rather haughtily.

I raise an eyebrow. "No one is going to buy this? Who are you kidding, Prongs? I am _Sirius Black_. My fan club comprises over three quarters of the whole female British population. Do you really think they're not going to buy my autobiography? Sue has been begging me for ages to get your girlfriend to write it!"

"Lily?" asks James.

"She's a writer, isn't she?" I answer, staring pointedly at him. I assure you, he's really as dumb as he sounds.

"In that case, I'm glad you've decided to do this thing on your own." He pauses, thinking. "And I think that's why Lily encouraged you so much." What? So she's not in love with me? Oh, phooey.

"Why are you glad I've decided to it on my own?" I ask.

His eyes wander, and his hand flies to his hair. I can tell he's nervous. "We-ell…"

"What? You'd be worried to have her spend more time with me than you, find out sad things about my life and want to cheer me up? You'd be worried she'd start getting accustomed to my wonderful smell and my well-toned body and then she'd start wondering why out of the two of us she'd picked you? I bet you'd be insanely jealous, because you'd know that if Lily started spending more time with me, she'd fall in love with me and leave you and—"

"Oh, cut it out," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "You know, for a moment there that thought might actually have crossed my mind, but then I remembered it's you we're talking about."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He laughed. "Well, Lily is _obviously_ not going to fall for you. I mean, come on!"

I raise an eyebrow. "How so?"

"She just would never…" he said, still laughing.

"Do share, Prongs." Okay, if he's going to drag the whole Hogwarts Number One Hottie thing, I will kill him. He knows I'm better than he is, anyway.

"We-ell…" He grins. The thing gets on my nerves. I can tell there's a joke coming. Or probably some rude remark concerning me. ME! "Do you honestly think she would dump me for my best friend, who just so happens to be her best friend's boyfriend?"

Oh yeah… we're back to the whole love pentagon thing. I forgot.

He continues. "I would probably be too much a wreck to do something other than jump off the astronomy tower, but Helen… she's never gonna let Lily live it down if she steals away her precious _Sirius_!"

I am touched by this. "Really? Aw… she cares about me that much?"

James raises an eyebrow. "You damn well know she does more than I do. You just like to have people tell it to your face."

"Yeah…" I sigh dreamily.

After about three full minutes of silence (I'm too busy to think about Helen) I can remotely hear James cough lightly.

I choose to ignore it. Oh, my darling Helen!

"Padfoot!"

"What?" I ask. Helen's image is still clear in my mind.

"I thought I was here for you interview?"

I nod slowly. "Oh. Yeah. I forgot." I pause. "What am I interviewing you for? You're stubborn, mean, arrogant, conceited, stuck-up, and with some serious brain damage if you actually think you're more handsome than I am – which I know you do."

"And I just so happen to be your best friend since first year. Does that mean nothing to you?" Then he stops for a moment. "And you damn well know I _am_ more handsome than you are."

"You're in denial," I say, shaking my head slightly.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Maybe!"

"NO!" I say half shouting. "You are not—" I pause. First I figure out he tricked me into saying whatever he wanted me to say. Then… "What _were_ we arguing about?"

He looks at me oddly. "I dunno. Probably about your stupid book."

"It's not stupid!" I say rather hotly.

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

I pause. "Listen, do we have to get on through this _again_?"

"No." He stares at me thoughtfully. "What were we talking about, anyway, before all these interruptions?"

"I think we were talking about your appearance in my book. Have I introduced you yet?" I ask.

"Who cares? I mean, honestly, _I'm_ James Potter, _everyone_ knows who I am, even the idiots who are going to buy your book. I don't _need_ an introduction! I'm well-known around here!" says James.

I stare. "Of course you're well-known around here, you're my best friend!"

He looks at me rather disgruntled. "That's not why people know me!"

"Oh, really? Then how _do_ people know you?"

James pauses. "Well, firstly, I –"

"You're Lily Evans' boyfriend."

"Yeah, but not just that! I'm also…"

"Famous Auror Harold Potter's son?" I ask, shrugging.

"NO! I'm… I'm… I'm _James Potter_!" he emphasized, as if this sentence actually proved a point.

"Prongs, mate, we'd surmised as much. But really, if you aren't famous because you're my best friend – Lily's boyfriend – your parents' son… well, then, what are you famous for, exactly?"

"I… I… well, I was Head Boy, wasn't I?" he asks, looking slightly put out.

"And a very fine one, at that, I assure you," I say, trying to keep a straight face. Honestly, it's not like being Head Boy is something someone should _brag_ about. Not unless you're Lily Evans.

But in that case, you'd be Head _Girl_, not Head Boy.

God, do I get sidetracked easily!

"I was a Marauder!" he exclaims, startling me. What was the question again?

"Of course you were, Prongs. The very best."

"And I was the best spanking Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen!" Is it just me or is his voice's volume turning up?

He's actually getting quite red in the face.

I fear he's hyperventilating.

"And-and I'm also still Hogwarts' Number One Hottie!"

Aha. I knew that was going to come, sooner or later. Better set him straight soon.

"Prongs, you are _not_ Hogwarts' Number One Hottie!" I explain patiently.

"Yes I am!"

That's it. I'm sick of this. "You know what, Prongs? This is getting boring. We have to find a judge. An impartial judge who will decide once and for all who deserves this title."

He stares.

"What?" I ask, rather offended by his skeptical expression.

"That's actually a good idea, Padfoot. It will settle this matter once and for all. Why didn't we think of this sooner?"

I roll my eyes. "Because we have fun yelling at each other and we enjoy telling ourselves we are unbelievably handsome?"

James nods. "Yeah. So, who's the judge?"

"Well," I say slowly, "we've got to get someone impartial. Any ideas?"

"Lily!" he exclaims. Then, he bellows at the top of his voice, "Lily! _Lily_! D'you mind coming upstairs for a sec?"

A muffled voice from downstairs seemed to agree, so James just smirked at me.

I shake my head vigorously. "No way."

"What?"

"Lily can't be the impartial judge!"

"How so? Lily is the most neutral person in the world!"

"Yeah, and she just so happens to be your girlfriend who also thinks I'm a conceited git! You don't honestly think she just _might_ be a little bit biased?"

"No."

"Well, I do. I want another judge."

"Who?" he asks wearily.

"Helen," I answer promptly.

He smirks. "You can't call Helen! If I'm not allowed to have Lily as judge, you can't have your girlfriend either!"

"Fine. Sue Andre'."

"She's the president of your fan-club!"

"Melissa Pitt."

"She goes around wearing a t-shirt that says, 'Sirius I love you!'!"

"How about Sylvie Carson?"

He breathes deeply. I can tell he's annoyed. "No members of your or my fanclub can be accepted as judges."

"What?" I ask, flabbergasted. "But that only leaves out your mother and Moony!"

It's his turn to stare. "What about Wormtail?"

I give him a sidelong glance, whispering dramatically, "I saw him smuggling a 'James Potter Fan Club Membership Card' in his wallet once. Fishy."

"And disturbing," he adds, shuddering.

"Very," I agree. "Fine, if so be it, our jury will be composed of my girlfriend, your girlfriend, Remus and your mother."

"No way, my mother is going to vote for you. We both know you've always been her favorite out of the two of us."

I grin. "Exactly."

In the meantime, Lily had joined us upstairs. "What's going on?" she asks, looking from me to James, then back to me.

"Nothing to worry about, honey," says James, smiling. "I'm gonna go downstairs to Floo Helen and Moony… you don't mind some company, do you?"

Lily stares. "What? No, of course not."

"Wonderful," says James, dashing out of the room full speed.

Lily looks after him uncertainly, before turning to me. "What is he doing Flooing Helen for? She lives next door to us, for God's sake! It'd take him less time to knock! Or, even better, to just call out of the window…"

I shrug. "Oh c'mon, Lily, you know your boyfriend… he thinks it's fun to stick his head in the fire…"

The words barely escaped my mouth when James rushes back in the room, announcing that both of the guests would be Apparating soon.

Lily rolls her eyes. "What is it with you people? What is Helen Apparating for? It really would take her less time to just _walk_ to our house!"

James shrugs, while I give Lily a look that plainly says 'Don't-ask-me-you-know-they're-cousins-must-be-congenital-stupidity'.

Who would have thought I'd even know a word like 'congenital', anyway? I always said those Word-a-Day calendars can do wonders for your vocabulary.

Especially if there are poorly clad veelas on them as well.

Helen used to hate that calendar (I really can't see why) but when she noticed how much my culture had improved (and I'm not just talking women anatomy here) she grudgingly admitted that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Next thing I know, there's a word-a-day calendar in her room, too.

Only with Quidditch players instead of veelas.

Rather handsome Quidditch players.

Half-naked Quidditch players.

And I'll tell you this: I got worried. I mean, I can't have my girlfriend looking at those idiots the whole time.

So, much to my dismay, we came to a compromise: we were both to get rid of our calendars, and accept our vocabulary as it is.

Oh, dammit.

"So, what's all the commotion here?" comes a voice from behind me.

Funny, I didn't even hear Helen and Moony Apparate.

But they must have, since they're here.

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Lily, looking rather impatient.

"Well," I begin, smiling charmingly, "the thing is… you all know I'm Hogwarts' Number One Hottie, right?"

Helen and Lily both rolled their eyes, while James stared at me.

"You can't do that, Padfoot! It's against the rules!" he yells. "And plus, they all know _I'm_ Hogwarts' Number One Hottie."

At this, Remus didn't seem to be able to repress the urge to shake his head, as he rolled his eyes as well. "Oh, God, Padfoot, don't tell me you and Prongs are still going on with that stupid competition!"

He seems to think that only because we're out of Hogwarts and out into the real, scary world, we actually have grown up and become so mature.

I could be honestly offended by this.

However, it's Prongs, not me, who jumps up. "Who says it's stupid? Our future is based on this 'stupid competition', you know. Everyone should know that I, James Harold Potter, am the sexiest living creature in the whole world. And that my beloved friend, Padfoot, has always been – and will always be – number two."

"I so do not think so," I reply, waving a hand dismissively in the air.

James smirks. He knows this gets on my nerves, and he does it on purpose. "The only way you could be Hogwarts' Number One Hottie would be if I didn't exist."

Lily sighs loudly. "I wish…"

We all stare at her, and James… "LILY! You're my girlfriend!"

"And you're a prick."

I grin. "Well, I could always kill you, couldn't I?" Idiot dolt.

It's James's turn to grin. "Even if you killed me, Padfoot, I would be the sexiest dead creature in the whole world. You're destined to be number two. Face it."

Honestly, can you believe the nerve – and intense stupidity – of this guy? "Prongs, mate, if you're dead, then what does it matter if you're sexier than I am ?–which you are not, by the way. I mean, you'd be dead! You can't shag anyone when you're six feet under, you know. Except for worms, maybe, but that's just icky."

"Eeew! Now that was completely uncalled for!" says Helen, who had somehow stayed quiet throughout the whole argument. Still shivering, she turned to James. "We get that you're still acting like two-year-olds. Is there any other possibly illogical reason why you called us all here?"

"Yes!" Prongs and I yell in unison. "Our competition on who deserves the title has lasted enough," I say calmly.

Lily jumps in the air. "Yes! Yes! I knew that between those two little brains you've got at least one of you was going to realize the immense idiocy of this stupid battle! Thank you, Sirius!" She practically hugs me before Prongs clears his throat loudly.

"Actually," he says, "the reason why you're here is to put a stop to it. The three of you will be our jury. You're supposed to vote whom you think deserves to be rightfully called – from now on and without exception – Hogwarts' Number One Hottie. We will accept your votes, and you will never hear us arguing about this again. Padfoot here promised that if I were to win – which we all know is going to happen – then he will never illegitimately abuse of this title."

Dumbfounded silence follows James's speech for a few moments. Then, as soon as the words start to sink in, it seems like some sort of explosion has taken place.

"_What_!"

"You've got to be _joking_!"

"You're two idiots, I'll give you this much! You're tied for Hogwarts' Biggest Idiot, you are!"

"You can't be serious about this!"

I grin. "Of course I'm _Sirius_!"

After some more rude remarks on my unbelievable humour and on the hard task that our judges will face, Remus stands up. I look at him, rather surprised: he's stupid if he thinks we're going to let him leave this early.

He stares at me and James as if we were crazy. "Okay, you two have got to be kidding. You don't honestly think I'm going to sit here and tell you which one of you I think is more attractive, do you?"

"Of course you are," says James.

"And why should I do that?" Remus looks really annoyed now.

"Because you're Moony and you love us?" I supply.

He stares at me. "No way. No way. There is no way on earth I'm going to do this. I'm going. Good-bye. See ya. Au revoir. Arrivederci. I do not want to have _anything_ to do with either of you madmen till some sanity has reentered your impossibly tiny brain."

Helen snorts. "Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen."

"C'mon, Moony," I say pleadingly, "look on the bright side. If you agree to help us settle this competition, you will never – ever – have to hear any of us complain about who rightfully deserves to be Hogwarts' Number One Hottie."

Remus shakes his head. "I. Don't. Care. Ask one of your stupid fan club members who they reckon should win this stupid title. But don't ask me."

"I would've asked them, but Prongs here – afraid to lose, no doubt – decided that no members of any of our fanclubs can be accepted as judge."

Remus shrugged. "Then just content yourselves with Helen's and Lily's opinion. I don't care." He turns to the girls. "Lily, Helen, it's been pleasant to see you. Helen, I'll Floo you tomorrow about that thing we were talking about yesterday, okay?"

Helen nods and Remus Disapparates before I can say anything else. I round on Helen. "What's this? '_I'll Floo you tomorrow about that thing we were talking about yesterday_…?"

"Yes," says Helen.

I glare. "Well, what is it?"

"It's really none of your business."

I'm going to explode. I can feel my temples pulsing. "It is! What are you doing with Moony?"

Helen grins mischievously at me. "I'm having a sexual relationship with him, obviously. Yes, Sirius, I'm two-timing you with one of your best friends."

"Ex-best friend, you mean," I growl. "You're not, really… are you?"

She smiles at me that smile that always makes me melt. "Do you really think I find Remus better than you?"

Okay, I'm worried now. "Yes. In many many ways."

She laughs. "Well, yeah, okay, so he's smarter. But…" She's still grinning and heading towards me slowly. "But I assure you that no one is as handsome and wonderful as you are…" And she kisses me, right there. "And you kiss _so_ well!"

I grin. Oh, I absolutely adore this girl.

I can hear someone exhale loudly, before James's voice interrupts us with a 'Get a room, you two'.

I'm not satisfied with that answer, though. I will have to investigate further on what my girlfriend and friend are doing behind my back.

"So, can we progress with the voting now or you two need some quality time in a closet somewhere?" asks Prongs rather impatiently.

"I'm thinking quality time," I say quietly.

James huffs. "Well, I'm thinking voting, so we'll vote."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, whatever." I grin at Helen. "Let's vote first, so this way when we do spend our quality time together, you'll be able to say you were officially snogging Hogwarts' Number One Hottie."

I think I heard Prongs mutter 'Number Two', but I'm not sure. Oh well.

"Are we just going to raise our hands or are we writing down our preference on a scrap of paper?" asks Lily.

"Er… Paper?" I ask.

"Hands," says James. "I want to know who votes for me."

I roll my eyes. "Who do you think is going to vote for you out of my girlfriend and your girlfriend?"

"Actually," says Helen, smirking, "I'd rather we did it on paper. You know… make the voting anonymous."

"Helen, honey, there's only you and Lily here, voting. It's not like it's going to be hard to figure out who votes who," I point out.

"Oh, whatever," says James, conjuring blank parchment for both of them. "There. Write down."

Lily gasps as she grasps (what an alliteration!) her wand. "James! This is called cheating!"

I turn around. "Cheating?"

Lily raises the parchment for me to see, and I notice that it wasn't blank after all. On it were written five words:

**I vote for James Potter**

I round on Prongs. "Afraid to lose, are we?"

"Not at all. Are you?"

"I'm not the one cheating here."

"C'mon, Padfoot, it was just a harmless prank. Plus, it's not like they're going to write anything different, are they?"

"You know, James," jumps in Lily, folding the parchment and dropping it neatly into a bowl, "you're still a tad too arrogant for my taste. I'm afraid I'm going to have to deflate that huge ego of yours a bit."

"Whatever," says James. "I'll go see the votes."

"No way," I cut in. "_I'll_ do it. You've already cheated once."

"Why don't I do it?" asks Helen, smiling sweetly.

"Okay," I say, grinning. Aha, if Lily had actually voted for me to deflate James's ego, the thing was in the bag. I won. I WON! VICTORY!

"All right." She unfolds the first piece of parchment. I can tell it's Lily's because of the way she'd folded it. I wait with bated breath for it… "One vote goes to…"

C'mon, Helen, say it!

"Sirius Black!" she says, smiling slightly and showing the tiny sheet to James, who was staring at it, horrorstruck.

YES! I KNEW IT! I WON! AHAHAHA! I KNEW I DESERVED TO BE HOGWARTS' NUMBER ONE HOTTIE!

"And this other vote goes to…"

Is there really any need for this? I mean, this is Helen's sheet of paper, she _obviously_ said me.

"James Potter!" she finishes, smiling largely.

I'm already dancing around when the meaning of her words sinks in.

She voted for Prongs.

My girlfriend thinks my best friend is more handsome than me. _And_ she sets up mysterious meetings with my other best friend.

Oh, great.

She voted for Prongs.

Do you know what this means?

"It means that our 'stupid' competition isn't over yet…" says James. He looks pointedly at Lily. "Unless, of course, one of you has already changed her mind, or realized she wrote the wrong name on the paper."

Helen and Lily grin at each other. "No, that's exactly what we think."

Wonderful. How in the name of Merlin are we ever going to settle this stupid squabble?

"Hey, Prongs," I cry suddenly, "I say we ask your mother to vote. That'll give us a winner."

James shakes his head. "Nuh-uh, no way, we've been through this already. We are _not_ asking my mother."

"Well…" Lily says, smiling slightly. "Sirius, you're writing that book of yours, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," I answer immediately. "Actually, all this started because of my book."

She grins. "Well, then, why don't you ask your readers what they think? They'll tell you who they like best between you and James."

That is actually a good idea. "Yeah…"

So, ladies and gentlemen reading this, I _beg_ of you… leave a review and let me know who should become Hogwarts' Number One Hottie! I mean, we all know it's me, but please say it yourself, just so James convinces himself of it, okay? I promise a signed copy of this autobiography to everyone who votes. And a date with me to everyone who actually votes for me.

"What! No fair, Padfoot, you can't bribe the jury!" says James suddenly. I've really got to stop talking to myself, because James _can_ hear me.

"I'm not bribing them!" I answer, scandalized.

"Fine," says James. "To whoever's reading this. This is James Potter writing. I am not going to sink so low as to actually promise you some stupid reward if you vote for me, because I am above such petty idiocies. I will, however, tell you two things. Number One: I am more handsome, more popular and more intelligent than Padfoot. Number Two: I will give everyone who votes for me free tickets to the next Quidditch World Cup in the Top Box with passes to meet the teams of your choice as well. That said, please vote!"


	4. The Results

CHAPTER 4

The Results

After carefully counting the votes, only one of our favorite Marauders won. But who is it? And, moreover, will the other one accept it?

A/N: I know I usually avoid author's notes on this fic as, well, Sirius should be writing them, not me, Hallie. However, I would like to apologise to all the amazing people who voted and who do not appear in this chapter. I have only put in those whose review stirred more comments from my beloved Sirius and James. Had it been up to me, I would definitely have mentioned each and every one of you, but my Hogwarts' Number One Hottie Competition has drawn a lot more responses than I had anticipated, and I cannot obviously quote each of the wonderful 95 people who voted. So, many many thanks to everyone who voted… and enjoy!

Now, I know I should have updated ages ago, but James insisted on waiting some more, because obviously not everyone had read this chapter and it would have been cruel to go on without them being able to directly participate in our poll (read: "Why is everyone voting Sirius? I'm sure there is someone else on this planet – apart from myself, obviously – that would vote for me! There is… isn't there? Isn't there!")

But the time is up now. And…ah… Victory… There is absolutely nothing like winning a competition to lift my spirits. Oh, no, wait, there is something better… For instance, winning a competition and beating my lame best friend who thinks he can compete with me but is obviously very very inferior to me.

"Sure, sure," says James, "c'mon, have another gloat. It's no wonder you won, really."

Oh? "Prongs, mate, are you saying you're finally admitting defeat? You've lastly figured out that I am, indeed, far better than you in just about everything?" I ask.

"Of course not," he answers briskly. "You didn't really expect me to, did you?"

"No," I answer, shrugging. "Actually, for a moment back there, I was afraid you were a Death Eater who took your place to lure me in some sort of trap. But now I know it's just you. You, Prongs. My inferior best friend."

"If you say the word 'inferior' one more time, I swear on all my Quidditch paraphernalia that I will throttle you with that stupid crown you're wearing," he threatens.

I raise one of my good-looking eyebrows. "How are you supposed to throttle me with a crown made of _metal_?" I ask, taking off my crown and gazing fondly at it. It used to be a fork, but I think it's far more useful this way: I usually eat with my hands anyway, and it's a lot more fun to gloat James with an actual sign of my power.

James waves his hand. "I'll transfigure it in a rope, first."

"Why not use my tie directly, then? It would be easier," I supply.

"Yes," he concedes, "but not nearly as satisfying for me." He pauses. "Anyway, we have to keep in mind the obviously unfair circumstances under which the voting occurred."

I raise my other eyebrow. This guy would be ready to have the Cruciatus Curse permanently on him rather than admit that I beat him fair and square! "Please do share, Prongs. I'm dying of curiosity now," I reply, my voice as sarcastic as I could muster.

"Well, the people who voted were obviously fan of yours, weren't they? I mean, they were reading this stupid book – probably touched in the head, I'm sure. Actually," he says, smirking, "I wouldn't be surprised if it was you voting under different names just to make sure you won. But, you see, I am above such silly squabbles. I don't care," he finishes firmly.

"Excuse me? _You_ don't care? You were the one who started this stupid competition, anyway, and now you just can't admit that I won and you lost!" I say heatedly.

He pauses for a moment. "Hey," he says suddenly, "can I look through those reviews? I just want to know who voted for me…" He grins. "And whom you're going to have to go out with since that's what you promised to all these girls who were going to vote for you. Ha! We'll see who's laughing when someone like Kerry Abbott tries to kiss you!"

In case you don't know, Kerry Abbott is this, um, _girl_… Hufflepuff… She used to have a crush on me (but then, who doesn't?), but she, uh, wasn't exactly my type.

"Oh, c'mon, Padfoot, I'm sure Abbott has a great personality!" says James, who is still laughing his head off at the idea.

"I don't doubt that, but personality is not exactly the very first thing I look for in a girl," I answer delicately.

"Just because she's a bit chubby—"

"Chubby? She's a whale!"

"—and I'm sure she started washing her hair now—"

"Yeah right! She was the only person with hair greasier than Snivellus's!"

"—and," he finishes, as if he really thinks he can convince me, "last time I heard, she had her wooden leg removed."

"Yeah, but that still leaves the eye made of glass… and you know how creepy that was…" I answer, shuddering.

"And," he says, his smile the most triumphant one yet, "I can't wait to see how Helen is going to react when she finds out you have to go out on a date with fifty different girls!"

He's hit home. Helen. I hadn't thought about her. She is _so_ going to kill me if she finds out. Great. Just great.

"Now, Padfoot, _can_ I have a look at these reviews?" he asks, jerking me back to reality.

"Sure," I answer. "Here."

James sits at the computer and starts scrolling down the very _very_ long list, occasionally stopping to read a comment or two.

His abrupt stop and strangled cry finally draw my attention. I had not read these reviews myself: I was merely interested in the number of votes we'd gotten. "What is it?" I ask curiously.

"Look," he says, pointing to the screen. "And she's not the first one, either."

I squint to see what he's referring to when my jaw drops. "Moony? Somebody actually voted for Moony? What kind of madwoman would vote for Moony? He's a lot less handsome than me!" I pause. "Actually, Prongs, I think he's even less handsome than _you_ are."

"Exactly! And he wasn't even competing!"

"Goodness, Prongs… what these people would do not to vote for you…" I sigh loudly.

"Well," he answers forcefully, "maybe I'm not the only one who needs glasses 'round here."

"Definitely."

He keeps on scrolling down. By now, this little electronic device which I still have to fully comprehend has my total attention.

"Wait a moment!" I say, stopping James in mid-click. "Look over there…"

He reads, "_Lady Ridicule says: I vote Draco Malfoy_." He looks at me, frowning. "Who the heck is this _Draco Malfoy_! And what kind of a name is that, anyway?"

"No idea. Hope he's not related to Lucius, though Malfoy isn't exactly a very common name, is it?" I ask.

"You tell me. I've never even met this guy."

"Lucky you," I answer, nodding. "Actually, the Malfoys are a very rich pureblood family. And, unless I'm much mistaken, I heard my aunt Polly saying she wanted him to marry one of her daughters."

"Really?" he asks. I think he's still surprised to hear that most marriages in pureblood families are never love matches.

"Yeah. I never could stand him much, personally. I really hope for Andy she's not the chosen one, and I hope for Lucius that Bella isn't either," I say thoughtfully. Yes, as much as I hate the bloke, Bellatrix really scares me. I'm sympathetic. "But I really don't remember any Draco's in the family." I snigger.

"What's so funny, Padfoot?" he asks, slightly annoyed.

"Nothing, I was just thinking… This guy almost received more votes than you did, Prongsie, and he doesn't even exist. You are so… so… despicable."

"And you are so stupid. Do you even know what this word means?" he asks.

"Nope," I answer, shrugging. "Helen had my word-a-day calendar confiscated before I could reach its definition."

Some more scrolling, then I stop him yet again. "Aha! Listen to this! '_ Katie says: I vote for sirius because i absolutely despise James!_'. Do you even know her?"

"Absolutely not. Never heard of her."  
"I wonder who she is? Who'd have the courage to write something like that?" I ask.  
"What, you're jumping to my defense, Padfoot?" questions Prongs, looking surprised.

I snort. "No, I merely wanted to send her flowers."

"And for a moment there I thought you were showing compassion."

"Are you kidding me? This is me we're talking about. I'm probably the only person on the planet who is more of a narcissist than you are."

He nods. "She's probably a drag queen."

"She is NOT! Just because she doesn't like you, doesn't mean there's something wrong with her," I explain.

"Yes it _does_! Padfoot, this is me we're talking about! No one can NOT like me and be normal."

I raise my eyebrow. "Actually, Prongs, it's the other way around. I've always known there was something creepy about Lily."

"Better not let her hear you say that," he says coolly.

I smile. "Need I remind you that she, too, has voted for me?"

He glares at me, and begins clicking away on the computer, clearly trying to avoid having to answer my question.

I cough slightly to cover another chuckle. "We should do this more often, though. All this chipping away at your self esteem while being worshipped by my fans is really rather pleasant."

"Oh, shut up."

I stop him again. "Hey, have a look at this! Did you read what the lovely fishwithwand said?  
'_I vote for Sirius! so funny. can't wait for more! although i find the whole James interupting distracting._' You're distracting, Prongs. Go on distract someone else."

"Please, your book wouldn't sell nearly as good if I wasn't here entertaining the intelligent half of your readers," he answers haughtily.

"Intelligent half? And who would that be?" he asks.

"Well, people like this nymphmagic. She has good taste."

I throw him a look. "Oh, admit it. You paid her to say that."

"I did not! Plus, look! She's not the only one! There's also Phoebe, and Madam Dasha, and lj4eva…"

"Yeah, and on the other hand there are instead fifty-two people who voted for me. _And_ three people asked to become members of my fan club. What do you say to that?" I ask.

"That these are all biased madmen."

"So? I still won and you still lost." I smirk. HA!

"Listen, do we have to go on forever with this stupid competition unfairly won by you?" he asks.

"Yes. I won't stop until you're on your knees worshipping the one and only Hogwarts' Number One Hottie."

"Then you can keep dreaming."

My gaze falls back on the screen, and I read another review. "Look, someone else who voted for me," I murmur.

"Big deal," says James.

I, however, keep on reading. "But what is this? This lady is actually implying that I'm not doing my job very siriusly, since she's pointed out that the third chapter was supposed to talk about my Hogwarts Career. Dear tonksrocksmysocks, you will clearly understand that finally making my dear friend Prongs see that I am better than him is far more important than anything else I could have written. He will now have to admit that I am Hogwarts' Number One Hottie, not him. And that is saying something."

"Humph!"

"Yup. Anyway, I can write about Hogwarts right now, can't I?"

"When you've already wasted over half of the chapter simply boasting about your stupid achievement?" he asks, raising his eyebrow.

"Hm, you're right, Prongs. I guess my Hogwarts career will have to be postponed to chapter five," I say thoughtfully.

"And you're just going to leave this chapter like this?" he demands sceptically.

"Sure, why not?"

"Padfoot, this is the stupidest chapter I've ever seen. I mean, nothing happens!"

I stare. "Are you kidding me? Number one, this is not stupid, seeing as I wrote it, and nothing _I_ write is stupid. And something does happen: I officially become Hogwarts' Number One Hottie!"

"I can finally see why Moony always found us so annoying when we argued about it," he says thoughtfully.

I stare at him, actually quite worried. "You know, this loss has been really really bad for you. You're siriusly starting to sound like him."

"There you go again, with one of your stupid puns! It's NOT funny, Padfoot! How can I make this simple concept penetrate that thick skull of yours?" he half-yells.

"Oh," I say, smiling, "now, this is more like you. Moony never yells."

James nods. "Yeah, apart from that time in fourth year when you were drunk and barfed on his new robes when he had to carry you back to the castle."

I scratch my head. "I don't remember that."

"Like I said, you were drunk. But he was pretty pissed off, especially since he met his precious Lexy when he had to go back for me." He grins. "I'll tell you, she wasn't _that_ impressed with him."

"I can tell. I mean, Moony has absolutely no sense of taste. He's always acting so smart but he couldn't even think of doing a quick 'Evanesco' on his robes."

"Padfoot, you had sat on his wand, and Peter had had to remove ours from us because we were threatening to do the anti-gravitation spell on the Three Broomsticks," he says.

"Oh! Now I remember! Yeah, Moony was yelling pretty loud when he found out I had just crunched his new wand!" I say, smiling fondly at the memory.

"Of course he was. You'd just broken his old one when you had accidentally set fire to it."

"Are you sure I was the one who did that? I clearly remember destroying one of Remus's wands because I used it as a dart to see if I could hit Snivellus's head from five meters away out by the lake in third year. The Whomping Willow wasn't very happy when it got stuck in one of its branches."

James shakes his head. "No, the one broken by the Whomping Willow had been Wormtail's wand. I'm telling you, you'd set fire to Remus's."

I shrug. "If you say so." I grin. "But it was you who accidentally destroyed Lily's wand thinking it was Snape's, wasn't it?"

James shivers involuntarily. "Yeah… She's still yelling me for it, now. But how was I supposed to know she'd left it on Snape's desk?"

"They were working together! And it was on her side of the table, too!"

"Oh, well." He gets up, and turns off the computer. I had no idea he'd studied this much in Muggle Studies: when Lily first set up this computer in my room, it took me three whole days to figure out how to turn it on.

"I'm hungry," I say.

"So am I. I'll go see if dinner's ready," answers James, walking to the door. "If you've finished all the food again, Padfoot, Lily is _so_ going to kill you."

With my wand behind my back, I immediately make all the evidence of my previous beef-based snack disappear. "Don't know why you'd get the idea, Prongs."

At that moment, an ear-splitting cry from downstairs echoes in my room. "_Sirius_!"

I look at James. "You think she opened the fridge?"

"Hope so. Or maybe she's found another pair of your boxers in the living room."

"I was so sure I'd removed them. Hanging me upside down by my heels for a whole weekend is probably the best punishment your evil girlfriend has ever come up with. Now I always double-check for any unwanted item of clothing," I answer.

"Then yeah, I guess she opened the fridge."

"You reckon I can make it to the Italian Restaurant on the other side of the street before she kills me?" I ask casually.

"Maybe if you leave now and go by broomstick out of the window," he answers thoughtfully.

It would be better to just Apparate, but ever since last year we've put all sorts of anti-Death Eater protections (like they'll ever work if Voldy decides to come for us…) and so now I can't even Apparate into my own room any more. I even have to use the stairs if I want to watch some tv. How awful is that?

"I'll go see what's wrong with her. You go, I'll cover for you."

"Thanks, mate," I answer gratefully. I jump on my broomstick and am out of the house in four seconds. I can, however, still hear Miss Lily yelling at the top of her voice.

Maybe I _have_ forgotten my underwear around again.


	5. Hogwarts Year One

Okay. Now that we've got our little competition settled, it's time to move on to some more interesting topics.

My life, for instance. Or just me.

Let me make it clear now: I promise you Prongs will not be making any appearances in this chapter – not if I can help it anyway – because, my dear fans, you're right: he's very, _very_ distracting. I have already wasted two chapters of my precious autobiography just to humour him, it's really more than enough.

So, it's finally time to go back to where we left off concerning this wonderful life of mine: that is to say Hogwarts.

I decided to cover, in this chapter at least, only my very first year. It was rather eventful, especially towards the beginning of the year, and thus cannot be squashed in with six more years in one teensy small chapter.

Now, before I drowse off with one of my memories, let me remind you what was going on at the moment: I had only just finished Bullpustule (yes, the name is still hideous), had returned for the summer to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and was now ready to embark the Hogwarts Express to begin the most amazing journey (and I don't mean it just literally) of my life, about to transform from the distinguished-looking eleven-year-old I was to the outspoken, brilliant, incredibly handsome and impossibly charming wizard I am now.

God, I'm poetic.

_FLASHBACK_

"Alright, Sirius," my mother said imperiously, staring down at me as she fumbled with the collar of my shirt. "Now, I want you to behave yourself. I know the train ride is going to seem endless, but think that this will be the last time you'll ever have to mingle with such riffraff, honey."

I stared at her disgustedly as she spoke this last word. 'Honey'? She'd never called me anything other than 'Sirius' or 'Disgrace' my entire life, and now, all of a sudden, I'm 'Honey'? Could maybe the fact that we were surrounded by some of the most important wizarding families have anything to do with her change of attitude towards me?

_"Have you heard anything that I've just said, Sirius?" she asked, and I could hear a tingle of rage in her voice as she discovered my not paying attention._

"Yes, mother," I said dully.

"Good. Now, during the trip, I want you to stick to Narcissa and Bellatrix, okay? I know how you have certain tendencies_ to, well, wander off on your own in search of…" she trailed off, not daring to speak the word she hated so much._

"Yes?" I asked, loving to see her squirm. She was now facing one of the biggest dilemmas of her mundane little life: if she said 'Muggleborn' – which, of course, I was sure she would rather cut her tongue off than say – she would have gone against everything she'd ever taught me. Yet saying 'Mudblood' (which was the only word I'd ever heard her call them) would have been quite unfitting for a woman of her social status: despite the fact that that was how every 'respectable' pureblood family referred to them, it was still a rather impolite word.

"Oh, you know," she said, resolving her little predicament by raising her eyebrows significantly. "Just stick to your cousins. I'll have Narcissa report me how you behave, and I strongly suggest she tells me you've been a good boy," she finished darkly, glaring at me as if to say 'or else'.

Referring to me as a 'good boy' as long as I stuck to my Muggle-hexing cousins sounded a bit oxymoronic to me, but hey. I nodded and headed toward the train.

"Sirius!" she called back. "Aren't you going to give your mother a goodbye kiss? I'm not going to be seeing you for the next three months!"

Okay, this was seriously starting to freak me out. A kiss? I don't think she'd ever even kissed my dad, and considering Regulus and I exist_, that is saying something._

But, as obedient as a tame puppy, I trudged back to her and fulfilled my sonly duties. My father, who hadn't spoken a word since we'd arrived at the station, stiffly shook my hand (a little more strongly than normal, actually… I wasn't able to hold my wand for the next hour or so), willing me to behave myself.

Finally, after a quick goodbye to my brother as well, I boarded the train, ready to embark on a new life.

The first person I met on the train was none other than sandy-haired Voice of Reason – that is to say Moony. He was sitting in a quiet compartment, reading a Muggle book, surrounded by a fidgety kid – Wormtail, obviously – and a third year girl, who seemed to be finishing an essay.

You didn't seriously_ think I was actually going to stick to Cissy and Bella, did you? I mean, Narcissa's okay, let aside the fact that she screws Lucius Malfoy and that she thinks Muggle-hunting should be made legal. But Bellatrix? She's _way_ too scary… I mean, I'm a Gryffindor and all (actually, I wasn't one at the time, so I'm excused), but even I'm not that thick._

So, of course, once onboard, I began strolling around, looking for an empty compartment. I figured I was already going to be spending the next seven years of my life with all those Slytherin wanna-be's, so I decided I was going to concede myself the luxury of an uneventful trip.

Even if that involved breaking my mother's rules.

Something I actually quite enjoyed.

Anyone surprised by this? Anyone at all?

I thought so. Anyway, back to Moony. My first conversation with Moony was actually quite enlightening (and embarrassing at the same time) for me: I, who had, up till that moment, been told of Muggles as almost primates, had finally come to understand that they were hardly any different from us: for instance, they, too, wrote books.

And to think I didn't even know they could read!

I grew immediately comfortable around Remus: he was the only person I'd met that day who didn't treat me differently once he'd found out what my last name was.

See, while on one hand a kid like Peter – cowardly – or any other rich and spoiled pureblood tried at once to get in my favours (like that was going to happen anytime soon!... well, apart from Peter, anyway), a kid like Prongs, who had grown up his whole life with his father (an Auror) telling him of all the murderous things the Blacks had done to Muggles, wasn't nearly as complaisant.

Did I just say complaisant? Yes, I have. This means you, my readers, have only just witnessed the biggest euphemism in the history of… well… in the history of euphemisms!

See, you all probably think that just because Prongs is now my bestest best friend in the world it means that when the two of us met, on that fateful first day of school, we immediately hit it off and became buddies right from the start.

WRONG! Totally, completely and utterly mistaken.

Your beloved Prongs, the arrogant jerk who turns into the mildest lamb whenever Evans is concerned, was actually an idiotic, conceited, prejudiced wrench!

As soon as I was – much to my and the whole world's great surprise – sorted into Gryffindor, James decided it was his duty to make my whole existence a living hell.

And I'm not just talking pranks here. He was offensive, cruel, harsh, and he practically managed to turn the whole Gryffindor House – heck, who am I kidding? The whole school_ - against me, ruining my social life and reputation for no reason!_

Metaphorically speaking, he was just about as bad as my folks. See, he hated me for what I represented: I was the richest, most spoilt kid in school, who came from the most evil house that ever walked this planet… the stereotypical Slytherin, which a stereotypical Gryffindor like Prongs loathed with all his strength.

But how could I point out to him that I wasn't, in fact, a Slytherin? I was just a kid who was born in the wrong family to the world, and grew up with the wrong ideals to his family. And who now wasn't accepted by either.

It took fights, fists, bloody noses, a dare in the Forbidden Forest, and a seemingly endless detention to finally show James what I was made of. But once he did, it was like we'd always been best friends. We just clicked_, you know? We were two totally different people, coming from totally different backgrounds, yet who believed in the same principles and – no mean feat, trust me – who could actually put up with each other for days at a time._

END OF FLASHBACK

God. You know, I was thinking… James was, like, really really awful with me at the time… how could I have forgiven him that easily?

I'm just too nice.

And he owes me big time.

I'm going to ask him to buy me some ice cream… that way we'll be even.

Cool.

As a matter of fact, I was getting kind of hungry… yes, ice-cream hungry, you dirty minds! I'd better go downstairs to see if there's still something in the fridge.

"PADFOOT!"

I can't believe this. This is James calling me.

I swear, my beloved readers, I'd told him not to importune me while I was working away at my autobiography, because I know how distracting he is. I can't believe how persistent he can be!

"Yes, Prongsie?" I ask sweetly. I just hope he makes it quick.

He pops his head in my room. I can't help noticing a malicious smirk on his face. This worries me greatly.

"There's someone down in the fireplace for you, Casanova," he says.

I don't like the sound of his voice, but I make my way downstairs anyway. If it's another one of my fans from Japan flooing for an autograph, I swear I'm closing up our chimney.

James's glances, however, make me uneasy. He wouldn't be _that_ gleeful if it were something promising for me. I can only assume this is bad.

As I step into the living room, I know just how bad is bad. Staring at me from the fireplace, is none other than that monster of Kerry Abbott. Why would she floo me?

Upon hearing Prongs's silent fit of laughter beside me, the pieces of the puzzle start coming together. She wouldn't Floo me, unless…

"Hi, Kerry," I say charmingly. "What can I do for ya?"

"Well, Siri, darling," she replies, her nasal voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand suddenly, "I think you know what I want from you. Only takin' wha's rightfully mine, I am."

My jaw drops to the floor as I finally understand what she wants. "Um, Kerry, I… I really don't know what to say…"

James grins at me. "Movies or a burger?" he asks slyly.

"I was thinking tonight, Siri, dear," continues Kerry. Oh, and by the way, if there's one thing I hate it's when people call me 'Siri'. Just so you know how hard it was to keep myself from imploding. "I would have called ya sooner, luv, but I only just had my leg replaced."

"How… convenient," I mutter. "Well, actually, Kerry, I have some news. See, I- well, I came down with the flu, so I really can't go out right now…"

"Oh, that's right," says Prongs, nodding his head soberly. "Well, here's the idea! Kerry, why don't you come over with some of your famous chicken soup and cheer up the guy's spirits?"

I fulminate him with the most murderous look I can manage. He falters for a moment, before putting back his radiant smile.

"Uh, I, um, I don't think that's a very good idea, actually… I mean, I'm very contagious…" I stammer.

"Nonsense," says Kerry, grinning. Only now do I notice she even has four teeth missing. "I'll be right over." And she disappears, just like that.

I round on James. "What-the-HELL-was-THAT-about?!"

"Don't take it out on me, loverboy. You're the one who's got his way with the ladies… moreover, _you're_ the one who promised all the girls who'd vote for you a date with you… I'm only making sure you respect your part of the bargain, that's all," he replies calmly.

"Yeah, but ABBOTT?!" I scream.

"I know… she was the only one ready to perpetrate her cause. Apparently, all your other adoring fans had surrendered to the fact that you are now happily engaged and thus are perfectly content with adoring you from afar," he says, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Talk about nut-cases."

"Talk about smart girls!" I reply. I still glare at him. "And don't think I don't know why you're doing this… You're still jealous that I'm Hogwarts Number One Hottie and you're not!" I finish mockingly.

His calm, smiling face worries me greatly. "Laugh all you want, Padfoot." He grins. "Oh, and just so you know: Lily'll be home any moment now with the groceries. And guess what? Helen's coming for lunch, too. I wonder how lenient she'll be with you when she finds out you sold yourself for a stupid title…"

I can just feel the colour draining from my face. "You—you—"

"Don't take it personally, Padfoot," he chuckles. "You're still my best man… no residual anger, no nothing… I just… well… let's say I love to see you squirm…"

And with that, he leaves the room with this scary, evil cackle (you know the one I mean… the one that goes MWAHHAHAHAHA), and, before I know it, there's someone at the door… and whoever it is, whichever way I look at it, I know it's going to be my very worst nightmare.

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry if I've kept you so long without an update!! Please don't kill me!!  
By the way, whoever's interested in reading the whole story behind this chapter's memory (Sirius's first day at Hogwarts) can check out my other story, **The Best Detention Ever**.


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